IN the rear of her stationary motor-taxi, a young milliner reached up a careful gloved hand to pat her black-felt cloche, snug on her smart, fair curls. Constance Smart had been sitting patiently for

What memories lay within its crumbling walls? Fiona was about to find out

Mae pulled her car in close to the curb, directly opposite the small two-bedroom bungalow belonging to her grandmother. She paused for a moment. Mae made a conscious effort to visit at least once a we

IRIS walked slowly to the front door of her Victorian villa in Fairley, a sleepy Sussex village. It had begun, she fumed silently – the “invasion” of her home. Of course, she’d been expecting it. Her

I WAS lonely. Papa was a preacher and we lived and travelled in a painted wooden wagon, pulled by Jessie, a large and docile shire horse. We had few possessions; there was no room for what Papa called

Are you sure, love? Why not go on a nice holiday with a friend instead?” “Honestly, Mum,” Lucy said, a touch impatiently. “I’m thirty, not a teenager! I want to travel, be on my own for a while. Since